Dangerous Play
by sinisterkid8
Summary: AU- A mysterious blonde striker shows up out of the blue and joins the US national team to compete in the World Cup. - Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Dangerous Play

**Author:** sinisterkid8

**Pairing:** Callie/Arizona

**Rating:** T

**Disclaimer:** The characters belong to Shonda Rhimes. No infringement intended. No Beta either

**Summary:** AU- A mysterious blonde striker shows up out of the blue and joins the US national team to compete in the World Cup.

_**(AZ POV)**_

My eyes remained fixed on the lumpy suitcase in front of me. Its wheels were aligned slightly crooked, so when you drag it around, it takes a peculiar zigzag path. Its exterior is this hideous shade of eggplant, clearly trying too hard to have a sophisticated look to it. It's almost as if Barney had thrown up and some 'ultra-modern' designer got particularly inspired by the incident. Ugh, what the heck was I thinking when I bought this? How am I supposed to cram my entire life into the freaking thing?

Sighing, I carelessly begin to stuff various articles of clothing into the case- a spunky pair of socks here, random rainbow pajama bottoms there. It's so weird to be leaving this house again. In all honesty, this is what I should've been doing two years ago. Well I would have, if it weren't for... No, I'm not going to think about that. I can't think about it anymore, not if I want to move on. Running a hand through my unruly blonde locks, I grabbed a black remote control and turned the TV on.

"_Now here's Jake Fischer to talk to us about the latest with our Women's National Team…" _My head snapped up to the screen with wide eyes. After a few seconds of fumbling with the blasted remote, I finally turned the volume up.

"… And here with us right now is the starting goalkeeper for the US team with a gold medal under her belt is our very own Callie Torres."

The camera pans in on the woman sitting next to the stiff interviewer in the ESPN studio and I swear my jaw dropped to the floor. The gorgeous Latina's lips curled upwards slightly, giving the man in front of her a polite smile. Her long raven hair flowed in loose waves down to her shoulders. My mouth watered as I noticed that even the sporty navy jacket couldn't conceal the brunette's curvy but fit figure.

My head started going a little hazy as I stared into a deep chocolate-brown eyes until a deep voice snapped my out of my daze. "So Callie, as the new team captain, after former captain and striker Erica Hahn's abrupt resignation, what kind of shape do you think the team is in for the World Cup now?"

I'm not sure if I'm just seeing things but it almost looked like Callie flinched at the question. Maybe the cameraman twitched? Eh, if she did actually move, it was probably just nerves. 'Jeez Arizona, not _everyone_ is a natural born speech-maker like you,' I think to myself sarcastically. Caught up in my inner rambling, I only caught the second half of the brunette's answer.

"…clearly a very talented player and we wish her the best on the Swedish team, but we've made it through the qualifying matches without her. And as every athlete knows, players may win games but teams win championships. I'm very confident that our team will go far in this tournament."

"Hahn's replacement, forward Arizona Robbins-" Hearing my name, my eyebrows shoot up with interest. 'Well, at least he said my name right, even if he made a bit of a judgy face after he finished saying my first name.'

"…still holds the title as leading scorer for the under-20 team with 113 goals but she has disappeared from the soccer scene for the past two years. We'll have to see what comes next from this new addition and whether or not she can live up to the incredibly high bar she had set for herself in the younger bracket."

'Of course the media was going to pick up on the lost time.' I rolled my eyes and grit my teeth in frustration. Oh well, I won't get too worried; it's not like my personal decisions are any of their damn business. Hopefully they'll just shrug it off and let me just play.

"Well, personally I've never played with her yet but I know for a fact that Coach Webber wouldn't have brought her on the team if she wasn't more than qualified." Callie responds in a sure voice.

"Well, Callie, congratulations on the team qualifying and most of all, good luck as you represent the United States in Canada this-"

I turned off the television and wandered back to my childhood bedroom. Two years ago, living in the room where I spent the first 18 years of my life would've been out of the question. But then life happened and here I am at 23, sitting on the puny twin-size bed with the same Toy Story sheets I begged my parents to get me when I was seven. I just _had_ to have the same comforter as my cool older brother. I may be hot but sometimes it's beyond me how I got past first base on this dweeby bed.

Walking to my closet door, I smoothed the crinkles out of my Cindy Crawford poster then pulled out my traveling checklist.

_**Do Not Forget!**_** :)**

**Practice clothes** – _Check_

**IPod **- _Check_

**Going out clothes** – _Check_

**Lucky shin guards **– _Check_

**Cleats **– _Check_

**Photo with T. **–

Crap, I almost forgot! I grabbed the only frame on my desk and gingerly wrapped it up in bubble wrap. Before I could get tempted to start popping all of the air bubbles, I quickly placed the enclosed photo in the ugly suitcase and zipped it up. With a deep breath I began my lopsided journey to my Jeep, tugging my bulky luggage behind me into the dark night. Ready or not, Canada, here I come…


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: Hi, I just wanted to thank everyone who reviewed/favorited/story alerted me! It means a lot and definitely motivated me to write this second chapter super fast =) Anyway, enough babbling from me… Onto the story!**

* * *

><p><strong>(Callie POV)<strong>

"Well, Callie, congratulations on the team qualifying and most of all, good luck as you represent the United States in Canada this summer," Jake says with a stereotypically pearly-white anchorman smile plastered on his make-up clad face.

"Thank you so much, Jake." I said, turning to shoot the camera a grin that was just about as real as the toupee on Jake's head. God, I've spent at least half the interview being memorized by it; was he making a tribute to Donald Trump? Why do men even wear those things? Being bald would definitely be a preferable choice.

"_Aaaand_ we're good. Thanks for coming out today, Ms. Torres," the studio director said, coming out from behind the set of cameras and shaking my hand.

"No problem, thanks for having me!" I smile politely and hastily exit the room. The smile slips off my face as soon as I left the room, no need to keep up with the happy façade. Making my way though the dimly lit hallway, I walked around the corner. I skidded to a stop when I saw a messy mop of brown hair right in front of me. "_Jesus_, George. You scared the crap outta me!"

"Shhhh!" he hissed and pointed to the Bluetooth in his ear. I rolled my eyes as he continued to speak in that matter-of-fact tone he uses when he wants to sound important. "Yes, of course she's up for an interview on Friday; that would be great. It's good to see the media finally starting to take an interest in women's soccer. No, thank you. See you then! Buh bye."

"What did you say about Friday?"

"I just snagged you a live interview with David Letterman," George boasted, clearly very pleased with himself.

A fire raged inside me, starting in the pit of my stomach and scorching all the way up my chest to my throat. "Seriously? What the hell, George! _I told you_-"

"Shhh!" What is with this tiny man and shushing me today? After I gave him a withering glare, he sighs, clearly choosing his words carefully. Smart man. He whispers, "We're in the middle of a freaking news studio, just wait till we're outside before you go all cage fighter on me."

Biting my lip hard to stop a hurricane of Spanish from spewing out of my mouth, I storm out of the building with my hobbit of a PR agent hot on my tail.

* * *

><p><strong>(AZ POV)<strong>

My right hand held onto the armrest with a death grip as my left clutched my IPod for dear life. My heart was beating a mile a minute, as if I'd just run a marathon. I turned it to the maximum volume, attempting to drone out the sound of my rapid heartbeat and the toddler in the back's earsplitting screeches with my _Plane Playlist _I had set up earlier. The playlist consisted of a random cluster of tracks that fit my somewhat eclectic taste in music.

One of the my fellow teammates is also from the Jersey area so Webber decided to have us take the same flight to Montreal so we could bond or something, I guess. Earlier he gave me a sheet of paper with the roster and everyone's phone numbers.

Apparently, this girl was supposed sit in the seat next to me on the trip to Canada… But I've seen no trace of, umm Theodora I think it was? Whatever, name-wise I'm in no position to judge.

"Spice Up Your Life? Good pump up music for the plane?"

I jumped up at the voice that interrupted my jam. I didn't realize my music was loud enough for other people to hear… Taking out of my ear buds, I glanced up to the smirking face of my new teammate. A faint blush crept up my face and I chuckled lightly. "Yeah, something like that. I'm Arizona Robbins. Theodora, right?"

Her nose gave a slight wrinkle in distaste and she quickly clarified, "Teddy, Teddy Altman" and mumbled almost unintelligibly, "Of course, stupid Webber just _had_ to put full names on that friggin' roster…"

I smiled conspiratorially at my fellow unfortunately-named teammate. "So you learned to fight dirty on the playground too?"

Teddy nodded vehemently, scooting past me to plop down onto the stiff window seat beside me.

"Hello, this is Megan Mostow, your flight attendant for the evening for Southwest Airlines on the Newark flight to Montreal, Canada. Please fasten your seatbelt. For your comfort and safety, adjust the strap so it fits low and tight around your hips. Make sure that your carry-on luggage is placed under your seat or in an overhead compartment. Please refrain from using cellphones during the flight, however you may use other electronic devises when the Captain turns off the overhead signs. Smoking is not allowed on any Southwest Airlines flight. Please let us know if you have any questions. Thank you for your attention and enjoy your flight."

"_Bienvenidos, me llamo Megan Mostow y soy su auxiliar de vuelo esta tarde por Southwest Airlines para su viaje a Montreal, Canada…_"

I started to zone out as the flight attendant began to repeat her safety spiel in Spanish. The plane lurched forwards, slowly inching up to the runway. Teddy's eyes fell to my hand that was still clasping onto the armrest; my knuckles had turned a pasty white color. Her greenish hazel eyes locked with mine and her face scrunched up into a concerned expression. "You alright over there?"

"I hate flying. I always feel much closer to death on a plane, don't you?"

Teddy furrowed her brow a little and mumbled, "I do now… Wait a minute, how come you're afraid of being in some silly airplane but you were perfectly okay with flying through the air in a diving header to win the CONCACAF Under-20 Championship against Germany in 2012. That doesn't make any sense at all."

"Different kind of flying," I explained with a smile. "Hold on, how do you know that anyway?"

"I may or may not have went on Wikipedia to check out my mysterious new teammate…"

I could feel my dimples pop out as I laughed at Teddy, who wore a sheepish smile on her face and gave me a small shrug. After looking me up and down, her eyebrows shot up. "Ha, if Webber sees you in Adidas gear at practice, he'll be kicking your ass from here to sundown."

I glanced down at my clothing and was indeed wearing a black Adidas tank top. I winked at my new friend and giggled. "Oops, don't tell on me!"

Teddy joined in with my giggle fit and joked, "Just don't let it happen again. Wearing the enemy's brand is a big no-no, Robbins."

We began to fall into such a relaxed banter that I failed to notice that we suddenly were up thousands of miles in the air inside an aerodynamic metal box.

* * *

><p>"Thank you for flying with Southwest Airlines!" the flight attendant's voice rang from the loudspeaker.<p>

"Ooh!" Teddy gasped, pulling out her iPhone, which I guess vibrated.

"Webber sent out an email!" she exclaimed as she poked a few buttons on the device.

"What does it say?"

"Umm let's see… It says that he sent for a town car to drive us to the fields; we're having an impromptu practice."

I stifled a groan. I love soccer as much as the next girl; I'd just prefer not to have to play it after an hour-long plane ride. Teddy and I remained seated since the plane was still sealed closed. Looking up, I saw a bunch of people had already stood up and clogged the aisles. Jeez, I really don't get why people do that. It's not like standing and forming a friggin' conga line is going to get you out of the plane faster. Oh well…

Finally, the door was opened and we joined the masses that were all squished up against each another. Ironically enough, using this strategy to try to escape the aircraft faster only managed to prolong the process and pop everyone's personal bubbles.

Teddy and I scurried to the baggage claim. As expected, I was endlessly mocked for my unsightly suitcase, especially when she saw it take a sinuous path behind me as we navigated our way to the crowded passenger pick-up zone. Scanning the row of chauffeurs all dressed in sharp suits, I finally spotted a tall, skinny man holding a sign that said, "Robbins et Altman."

When we walked over to him, he greeted us, "Bonjour Mademoiselles."

I put my dimples on display and said, "Bonjour monsieur! Comment allez-vous?" parroting the only two phrases I could ever remember from those blasted French tapes I'd gone through last-minute before leaving.

"Très bien, merci! Parlez-vous francais?" The man replied in a singsong voice.

_Oh crap, he really thinks I can speak French, doesn't he?_ After about thirty awkward seconds of me giving him a blank stare, he cleared his throat and said in a thick accent, "This way, Mademoiselles."

* * *

><p>The town car screeched to a stop in front of a gigantic stadium. Before I could blink an eye, the chauffeur wheeled around to my side of the car and opened the door. Teddy and I slipped out of the tiny black vehicle and pulled out a few bills to tip him.<p>

Looking up at the stadium, Teddy lit up and pulled me to the building. With our heads buried in Teddy's iPhone in an attempt to discern Coach's email with directions to the locker room, we aimlessly shuffled about the building. After our third lap around the maze of a building, we finally found the room we had been searching for.

I pulled the handle and the door creaked open. Glancing around the mostly empty room, my eyes stopped on the gorgeous Latina who captivated me earlier through the television screen. As I looked at her more closely, the camera lens didn't do the breathtaking woman justice. Her raven curls were tied up in a high ponytail, gently brushing against the back of her neck ever so slightly.

She was facing a circular mirror; her back was to me, which, let me tell you, was not a bad thing. I licked my lips as my eyes swept their way up and down her body, admiring each curve presented to me. After being magnetized by her presence, I blinked, noticing that I had unknowingly drifted right behind her. She kept her focus on her reflection, sliding a purple piece of pre-wrap over her head and smoothing it out. My lips opened up without assent and words fell out of my mouth.

"Hey… Torres, right?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN2: Sorry if I'm made mistakes with the French; I took Spanish and Latin instead in high school. Anyways, I've been thinking about possibly making teams be made up of 8 players on the field instead of the traditional 11. That way, I can focus more on the individual players instead of having to describe a bulk of characters in overall less detail. I'd love to hear any opinions on that. Thanks for reading! =)**


	3. Chapter 3

**(AZ POV)**

My eyes snapped open and I took in my surroundings. _What the hell am I doing on the ground? _I looked up and was immediately engulfed in dark brown. I searched the chocolate colored orbs, trying to make sense of this enigma of a woman, but I could only find my reflection cast in her now nearly black eyes.

Her soft curves pressed me down against the grass, effectively pinning me. I felt a surge of electricity crackle its way up my body as I became aware of the caramel skin that was in contact with mine. A single bead of sweat trickled a path down her face; I bit my lip, trying not to think about what _other_ sweaty activities I could be doing with the stunning brunette on top of me…

A piece of brown hair was stubbornly clinging to her forehead. I brought my hand up and tucked the lone strand behind her ear. Her breath hitched and my gaze dropped down to her pouty lips. My face started to gravitate towards hers and-

"Torres!" a gruff voice full of authority barked out, startling me out of my daze and making me think back to what had caused me to be underneath the keeper in the first place.

* * *

><p><strong>*Flashback*<strong>

_She was facing a circular mirror; her back was to me, which, let me tell you, was not a bad thing. I licked my lips as my eyes swept their way up and down her body, admiring each curve presented to me. After being magnetized by her presence, I blinked, noticing that I had unknowingly drifted right behind her. She kept her focus on her reflection, sliding a purple piece of pre-wrap over her head and smoothing it out. My lips opened up without assent and words fell out of my mouth._

"_Hey… Torres, right?"_

"Mmyeah," Callie replied absentmindedly, her eyes moving up to meet mine through the mirror. The corners of her mouth tugged down slightly as she broke eye contact, bringing her attention back to her hair. _Okaaayyy then…_ _Let's try this again._ I flash my dimples and sputter out in a cheery voice as an attempt to mask my nerves, "I'm Arizona Robbins, the new striker. Umm, I saw you on TV this morning; I've heard a lot about you because, well, people talk…a lot. I mean the talk is good, super even, but-"

The Latina rolled her eyes and spun around. "Look, you don't have to do this. We don't have to be friends; there are lots of people on this team, lots of people that would be _super_ glad to be chummy with you. But _I_ don't do perky."

My mouth fell open at the disdain evident in her voice. _Diva much?_ I looked around the locker room awkwardly, noticing it had filled up considerably since I had walked in earlier. Teddy stomped over to my side and growled, "Don't talk to her like that, Torres. I mean seriously, you're our captain now. Freaking act like it!"

Suddenly the room felt like it was jam-packed. A crowd to form, pressing in closer towards Teddy and Callie; girls were drawn to the drama like flies to honey. A petite Asian woman with unruly brown curls stood behind Teddy and scoffed. Raising her voice, the scowling woman snarled, "Yeah, because Hahn did such a _great_ job as a goddamn role model when _she_ was captain. You saw her; she treated me like shit. Leaving was the best thing that bitch did for this team."

Callie glared and towered over the small woman. Her passionate eyes were seething with fury. "Shut it, Yang. Don't talk about her like that!"

Things were clearly escalating fast. More and more people started to cram into the area, making me feel a bit claustrophobic. I swiftly ducked out of the locker room before the tension could rip me to shreds.

Strolling casually onto the practice field, I watched Coach Webber start to spread out what seemed like a hundreds of neon orange cones into boxes and various strings of lines. A cluster of soccer balls were bunched together right next to the Nike ball bag. I glanced down and spotted a ball sitting alongside my foot.

Just looking at the white hexagons adorned with dark grey rectangles, bright yellow circles, and a certain famous rounded off check mark has never failed to make me itch to be back on an open grass field with freshly cut blades of grass. I pressed my foot on top of the ball; the leather shot right back up as if it was nearly bursting with life.

When examining the ball more carefully, I spotted little pieces of grass nestled in between the hexagons. Scuffmarks trek an incongruous path across its white surface, a tangible testimony to many hours of being kicked across vacant blacktops and soccer fields.

A wave of nostalgia rolled through me, washing over me with memories of silly team bonding and the pure satisfaction of being completely in sync with someone on the field. Staring at the leather sphere, I can't believe I was _so_ close to giving all of this up.

Thinking about it now, the simple but incredible sensation of dribbling a soccer ball across a pitch with a defender blazing behind me is irreplaceable. Sweeping my eyes across a field that could've been mistaken for a golf course, I knew this is where I belonged. The soccer field will always be home to me.

I heard footsteps approach me so I turned around. Teddy gave me an exhausted smile and mumbled, "Sorry about that… After Hahn left, things have been kinda tense."

"Ya don't say?" I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.

* * *

><p>As the team gathered into a huddle, my ears were flooded with the sounds of my heart racing and heavy breathing. The close proximity to one another's sweaty bodies made the area feel stuffy, but we all ignored that and focused on what Coach Webber was saying.<p>

"Alright, ladies, I'm liking the effort I've seen here. You've all done some good work today. I've got one last drill I want to go through before we pack it in for the day. Everyone except Torres and Altman head down to the thirty, we're doing one-v-ones against the goal; Torres, you'll need your gloves for this one. Teddy, you know where to go."

"Okay Coach," Teddy said.

Callie gave Webber a barely perceptible nod and jogged over to the goal line. She reached behind the net to retrieve her gloves, which were a tasteful combination of white and blue with a black Nike swoosh in the center. Slipping the gloves on with ease, she velcroed the straps meticulously. The Latina clapped her hands together and jumped up to tap the top of the crossbar. My breath catches as she turns forwards, fixing us with an intense stare.

As our center defender, Teddy stood on the arc outside the 18 facing our line. I took a deep breath, pushing stray hairs off of my face. I'm second in line, behind the Yang girl that Callie was in a screaming match with. Feeling as if butterflies had inhabited my stomach, I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. _I'm Arizona Robbins. I am awesome. I've got this._

I chanted the mantra in my head and opened my eyes. Yang was just trapping the pass Teddy had given her. The small woman took a touch, but the ball had leaped just a tad bit too far away from her foot. Callie came charging at her and pounced on the ball. Fearing for her legs (and probably but justifiably fearing for her life) Yang leapt backwards. One of the corners of the keeper's lips curved upwards into a smug smirk as she rolled the ball back to her teammate.

_Here goes nothing. _I passed to Teddy, who swiftly returned the ball to me. I blazed my way to the 18, keeping the ball close to me. Taking a few touches into the box, I looked up at saw Callie begin to stutter step towards me. The brunette sprang towards me with her arms up, but she wasn't quick enough. Leaning back ever so slightly, I dipped my foot underneath the ball, scooping it up and over Callie's looming hands. The soccer ball arced gracefully through the air and into the upper right pocket of the goal.

I grinned as high-pitched whoops filled the air. "Holy crap, Torres just got schooled!" someone yelled out.

"Nice job, Blondie!" Yang shouted from across the field.

The fire burning in the captain's eyes made hell look chilly in comparison. "Beginners' luck," she mumbled as she passive-aggressively rolled my ball hard towards the sideline, far away from where the line was. Ignoring the juvenile behavior, I got the ball and went to the back of the line. Soon enough, I was at the front of the line again.

"Do it again, Robbins!"

"Yeah, let's go two-for-two, Blondie!"

I blushed at my teammates' cheers and kicked the ball to Teddy. Her pass back to me was crisp and was directed towards the center of the 18-yard line. My strides widened as I sprinted to meet the ball. Knowing Callie would be more cautious this time around, I kept my dribble light and quick, luring her towards me.

As my foot crashed down against the side of the ball for a quick cut, Callie began to lunge. Looking up at her in mid-flight, I noticed something was peculiar about the angle she was jumping at. _Oh shit_. A gasp escaped my lips as I realized the keeper was soaring through the air, but was heading nowhere near the ball. I sucked in a lungful of air, bracing myself for what I knew was coming.

* * *

><p><strong>*Present*<strong>

Callie huffed and rolled off of me. Webber continued his rant: "What the hell were you thinking? This is a _practice_, and even if it was a real game, the referee would have had you out of the stadium before you could say 'red card'."

I lifted my head and saw the team had circled around the scene. Teddy glowered at the Latina and hissed in a low but clear voice, "Way to go Torres. What are you trying to do, drive away every forward that comes to this team?"

The redhead who was helping Callie up turned and gave my friend a dirty look. Getting up in Teddy's face, the woman bellowed, "Can it, Altman. You have no clue what happened, so don't even pretend you have any idea what you're about!"

"Oh really, Addison? Then, _please_, enlighten-"

"_ENOUGH!_"

Silence filled the air as 12 heads snapped up to look at the fuming man. Gritting his teeth, Coach Webber lowered his voice to an eerily level tone. "Everyone get your ass into the locker room, _now_!"

**A/N: Time out, put the bricks down… I know Callie's not exactly pleasant in this chapter but she's heartbroken so try to cut her a little slack =) Thanks for reading and have an awesome day!**


	4. Chapter 4

**(Callie POV)**

Silence. There was not one sound in the room. It was the kind of quiet that rakes at your ears like nails on a chalkboard. It was the kind of silence that made the air feel thicker, colder; the kind of silence that made everything seem just a little emptier. It was something I've never gotten used to.

Most people think it's bad form to make a racket during a penalty kick, kind of like free throws in basketball. We're trained to believe that it's poor sportsmanship. We're taught that a noisy atmosphere will psych out the keeper. But when I stand on my line, staring down my opponent who's setting the ball down on the penalty mark, all of the commotion brings a new clarity to my mind. It's like having cool, fresh water splashed in your face, like a jolt to the system. The noise keeps me alive.

Growing up with my Cuban family, a little peace and quiet was never an option. When we were happy, we sang. When we were mad, we yelled. When we were sad, we cried away our sorrows. Loud was something tangible, something you could rely on. But quiet… Quiet was an entirely different monster in and of itself. It was volatile, had this sense of unknown. And that unknown; it'll always chill me to the bone.

The room was dim; one of the ceiling's fluorescent lights periodically flickered on and off, as if it too was unnerved by the tense atmosphere. The lockers towering over our heads were painted this shade of ashen grey, like the color had been drained right out. Still sweaty from our earlier drills, I planted my feet firmly on the ground so I wouldn't slip off the bench. I began to glance around the room nervously and bit my lip. As I looked forwards at the bench across from me, I found the root of my problems staring right back at me.

When my eyes met her baby blues, she pulled her head down quickly. _Apparently her cleats are very interesting now that I caught her gawking at me… What's up with those damn shoes anyway? What kind of self-respecting soccer player actually goes out and buys neon-pink cleats? And at the professional level, too! Wait; is that a butterfly at the heel of her boot? Jeez, she brings perky to a whole new-_

Addison elbowed me in the ribs and my head snapped up. Coach Webber cleared his throat and gave me a withering glare. "Ahem, Torres, I hate to break up whatever kind of stare down you're having with Robbins' cleats, but I think the future of this team _might_ be more of a priority, don't you think?"

"Yes, sir," I mumbled, bringing my gaze up to the livid man who was busy pacing around the room in a slow circle.

"Now, I would have never imagined that this team would let me down when I saw each of you step onto the field this evening. And when I watched your performance, your abilities, your skills, I saw a group of very talented, hard-working players in practice today. But if you young women behave like you did in the last five minutes of practice, that's all you'll ever be: players."

Webber took a deep breath and his voice lowered to almost a whisper: "Now, I've been a coach longer than most of you have been alive. I've seen teams with half as much talent rise to the top; these teams might not have had as many moves up their sleeves or some hotshot striker scoring hat-tricks every game, but they most definitely had something we don't have. Our problems are clearly not technical and they sure as hell aren't tactical. What we have are missing is a sense of team chemistry; we have become a lineup of stars and divas. If things continue to go this way, we _will_ lose this tournament hands-down. Teams beat players. _Every. Single. Time._ And frankly, it's not my job to play babysitter for a bunch of prima donnas. I was _going_ to let you all pick your own roommates, but clearly you all are not mature enough to handle this privilege right now."

Coach pulled out a scraggly notebook and flipped to a page filled with messy scrawl and eraser marks. He squinted his eyes in concentration and went on with his speech: "So here are the new living arrangements until I decide otherwise: Altman, you're with Montgomery; Torres with Robbins; Yang and Little Grey; Bailey go with Heron; Grey and Kepner; Adamson, you're with Thompson. I don't care if you absolutely despise each other; you will just have to make it work. Learn to coexist or kick the shit out of each other- I don't care. Either way, you will leave your personal lives at home and off of my soccer field."

At the end of the rant, Cristina looked up at Meredith with disbelieving eyes. The two were practically an inseparable entity of their own; the Twisted Sisters, Addison liked to call them. Even though Yang _did_ get under my skin at practice today, I would never wish for them to have to part. The two friends have such an eerie connection that I feel like if the two divided, the universe would explode or something.

My eyes drifted away from the dreary duo over to Addison, who was right beside me. I scanned her face for a moment, trying to get a good read on her. Her mouth was twisted into a slight scowl. Her cheeks were a little pink, a telltale sign that something was bothering her. I brought my gaze up to her eyes. _Of course she wore makeup to practice- only her. _I shifted my focus to her eyes. I was staring at the light grey orbs that had rays of green forming a ring around her pupils when I saw something peculiar flicker behind them. _Oh no, not that look. She's_ _making 'Poor Callie' eyes at me. Great, like I need to feel any more pathetic than I am right now...  
><em>

As I tore my eyes away from my best friend's pitying stare, I saw the back of Webber's head as he was walking out of the locker room. I jogged over to meet him and matched his quick pace. "Coach, with all due respect-"

"Torres, if this has anything to do with the new roommate situation, frankly, I don't want to hear about it. I don't know what's going on with you but I can't have it messing with my team. You're my captain and I need you to act like a role model. If that's too much for you to-"

"No, no sir. I'm sorry, you're right. It won't happen again." I interjected quickly.

"I'm glad we understand each other," Webber grunted, leaving me standing in the doorway. My eyes remained fixed on the wall ahead; my feet were rooted in place. My chest felt like it was constricting at an agonizingly slow pace. I struggled to get oxygen inside of me, as if my lungs were gradually filling up with cement. I shut my eyes tight, as if my eyelids could push away all the thoughts racing around in my mind.

"Excuse me." The clear voice sent shivers down my spine.

I shifted my head to face the brave soul that interrupted my thoughts. Arizona pulled her chin up defiantly and squared her shoulders, giving me her best "Don't fuck with me" look. The tension was so thick that I half expected tumbleweed to come rolling across the locker room floor like an old western movie. Piercing blue eyes locked with mine, staring me down almost like she was daring me to try to mess with her.

The entire thing might have been intimidating if she wasn't a good head shorter than I am. Plus, the way she's narrowing her eyes makes her nose crinkle up. Not exactly menacing, more adorable than anyth-

"Coño, ¡me prometí que no hiciera esto!*" slipped out of my mouth.

Her eyebrows sprang up and she let out an exasperated sigh. "_What_?"

"I, uh, it's nothing… Never mind."

Rolling her eyes, Arizona dropped her hand to her hip and said in an impatient voice, "Look, either tackle me to the ground again or move; this whole body blocking me from the door is getting old real fast."

Sucking in a mouthful of air, I took a tentative step backwards and leaned back on my heels awkwardly. "Look, I'm not saying we have to be best friends and braid each others hair or anything, but we're going to be living in the same space for awhile… so let's just take one for the team and coexist, okay?"

"Fine," she huffed, storming out of the room with her ponytail swinging angrily behind her.

I walked over to the nearby concrete wall and slumped down to the floor. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I let out a muffled huff. Sticking to my word was going to be harder than I thought…

Shrill beeps cut through the silence, sending a prickly sensation up my ears. I took out my phone and flicked it open to the screen. _One new message_. I opened up the email and mumbled, "_Seriously_?"

_Ladies,_

_I've decided that instead of holding practice tomorrow, you all will go out and explore the city with your new roommates. We need to concentrate on acting like a team if we want to have a chance at this. Bailing on this assignment is not an option. I'll see you all on Tuesday at the practice field._

_-Coach Webber_

* * *

><p><strong>* "Coño, ¡me prometí que no hiciera esto!" – Crap, I promised myself I wouldn't do this!<strong>

**Thanks for reading! =)  
><strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**(Callie POV)**

"We went _over_ this already!"

I immediately jolted out of my sleeping state, as if the commotion had pierced through the _Zzz_ cartoon cloud bubble over my head. My lips slumped into a grumpy pout. _And it was such a nice cloud…_

"What'd you expect? Did you want me to stay there forever?" The voice growled in a low tone.

_Hmph, wouldn't want her boyfriend. Sounds like somebody's gotta clinger..._ If I had the willpower to move from this snug bed, I'd go and ring up Dr. Phil for an intervention or something. My eyes peeled open, sleepily peering in the general direction the racket was coming from.

Squinting, I saw scrawny bare feet nearly tearing up the carpeted floor as Arizona paced alongside her bed at a furious rate. She was clutching a cellphone with a death grip and holding it to her ear. _Huh, so I guess the whole panties in a twist thing isn't just reserved for me._

_**Beep. Beep. Beeeeeeeeeeeep!**_

An exasperated groan rumbled up my throat. I scowled at the microwave, as if intimidating the inanimate object would make it pipe down. _¡Dios mío! Any more noises want to chime in? Ready? And a one, and a two…_

"Look, I've got to go," Arizona raised her voice. _Ahh, there we go, right on cue._

"What? No, I'm not being spiteful; I just don't want to have this conversation right now."

Arizona turned her head to glance towards my bed self-consciously. The muscles in my body went rigid and I squeezed my eyes shut real' tight. It was almost as if I were a little girl again, feigning sleep past bedtime when Mama cracked the door open to check on me.

"…_Especially_ since I haven't eaten yet today," she added softly, kind of like she'd forgotten to put her inner monologue on mute.

There was a brief pause and then she replied curtly, "Yeah, uh huh. Bye."

I heard a soft plop, assuming Arizona simply tossed the phone on her bed. I began to worry that she had caught me eavesdropping, so I snuggled deeper into my pillow, even throwing in an ever-so-attractive snore for good measure.

"Anddd first place for World's Worst Fake Sleeper goes to _–drumroll please-_ our very own… Calliope Torres!"

_Shit_. A sheepish smile crept up, my brown eyes avoiding her blue. I opened and shut my mouth a couple of times before sputtering, "I-I wasn't- Well okay, I was… I mean, can you blame-_erm_, never mind. But I mean, it-it's okay, I didn't hear a lot... I'm sorry."

"Well, I wasn't exactly quiet. It's alright."

A flicker of sadness sparked behind irises so quickly that I almost started to doubt I'd seen anything at all. The depths of blue faded to a shallow pale color, completely drained of any sort of feelings. Her lips pulled tight into a strained smile, as if she thought flashing her pearly whites would erase my memory like that creepy gadget from _Men in Black_.

_I wonder what her story is. What's there behind that striking yet slightly tragic smile? Wait, no. It doesn't matter; it can't matter. I don't do this anymore. Because caring… all it ever does is dump me off on the side of the road so life can come and bite me in the ass. Hey, wait a second…_

I narrowed my eyes in thought as the microwave opened with a pop. Arizona's smile fell as she looked down at the Easy Mac container in her hands.

"Robbins, did-did you just _Calliope_ me? Only my dad gets to… Wait, how the hell do you even know my full name?" I rambled, perching up my brows expectantly at the end.

Arizona's frown slowly shaped itself into a pleased smirk. She batted her eyelashes mischievously and replied in a singsong voice, "That's for me to know, and you to spend many sleepless nights trying to find out."

I grumbled unintelligibly; she went back to staring at the goddamn Easy Mac. _I'm pretty sure it'd be against food regulations to put toys in those things, so I don't get what's so interesting inside that stupid plastic cylinder…_ Before I knew it, I was standing beside her over the 'meal', gaping at the mushy mess. Particles were float lazily in the lukewarm, somewhat discolored water. The elbow noodles clinging to the edges were cooked halfway, unlike their unlucky friends in center that were still rock-hard.

After looking over the outside of the container, I threw my head back and chuckled. Glowering at me in a semi-menacing way, Arizona huffed. "What?" I shook my head and she let out a perturbed sigh. "Come on, Callie! Whatdo you think is _so_ funny?"

Gasping for breath, I pointed to the first and last steps in directions. She murmured quietly, "Oh."

_REMOVE lid and Cheese Sauce; set aside._

…

_4.) STIR IN cheese sauce mix until well blended._

My clever roommate had clearly passed over the instructions and put the cheese mix in before the water was microwaved. "Oh man, like a thousand blonde jokes just popped into my head. Hmmm, but which to choose…"

Arizona rolled her eyes and whacked me on the arm. "Shut up," she said as glanced up at the clock. "Oh shoot, we gotta leave soon. Get your ass in gear, Torres!"_  
><em> I bit my lower lip so a childish comeback wouldn't slip out of my mouth. Grabbing my shower caddy, I stomped into the bathroom.

* * *

><p><em><em>A gust of air wailed through the air in a hot frenzy with a loud persistent drone trailing behind. My fingers ran through my damp hair; the black curls immediately sprang back up in rebellion. My eyelids fluttered as the blasts of hot air caressed my scalp. I heard the muffled voice faintly through the door, "Wedzadwermlesu-" _Uhh, what the?_

I turned off the blow dryer and shouted from the bathroom, "What'd you say?"

"I said, 'We were _supposed_ to be at the park five minutes ago!'" the impatient voice grumbled.

With a huff and clenched fists, I snapped back haughtily, "Well I'm _sorry_ I'm not all up and at 'em at this ungodly hour."

"Callie, 12 o'clock in the afternoon is _hardly_ an 'ungodly hour'."

"Any time that I have to be awake before 2 on a day off will rightfully be described with any damn adjective I want."

"I'm sorry, but here in the Land of the Living, we are actually productive with our time. Now get your butt out of that bathroom; we're burning daylight here!"

Scowling, I slammed the blow dryer onto the counter with an unnecessary amount of force. Pulling a hotel towel around my body, I swung the door open.

"Let's go, Callie. I'm not-"

Turning around from the TV buzzing in front of her, Arizona's eyes widened and her sentence ended in an incoherent form of gibberish. My lips curled into a smug grin. _Well, at least I found a new way to shut Arizona Robbins up…_

**Sorry it took so long to update! I had college finals and then I got hit with major writers block. Thanks for reading! As a side note, if you're wondering why I sound so informative about the Easy Mac incident, I may or may not have had a very similar experience once… Just minus the hot Latina calling me a dumb blonde, although that would be a bit strange because I'm a brunette. Well, enough embarrassing myself for one post! Have a nice day =)**


	6. Chapter 6

**(Callie POV)**

"Oooh!" Arizona squealed. "Look, let's go in there! Please, please, please?"

_Papillons en Liberté._ She pointed at a bright sign that provided an English translation under the French, which wasn't entirely necessary because there was a colossal butterfly model hanging right next to it.

I held back a sigh as I tugged at the pockets of my signature leather jacket of badassness. This was _not_ what was supposed to happen. When Arizona complained earlier about my tardiness, which had caused us to miss the tour that she had booked for the afternoon, I took it upon myself to find an adequate replacement. I walked around the park aimlessly, Arizona trailing behind rambling disjointedly about the importance of punctuality.

I may or may not have gotten a little fed up, _possibly_ choosing our current location out of spite... But, I mean, really: if you saw the word _Insectarium _slapped across a giant sign, wouldn't you have the slightest urge to the take the Barbie who's been talking your ear off for a good 20 minutes and drag the damn girl inside to make her squirm a little?

I glanced at the beaming blonde; she was squirming, just not in the way I had intended her to. "You _really_ like it here?" I asked her incredulously for the trillionth time today.

"Well, _yeah_!" Arizona said, raising her eyebrows as if to say, 'Duh'. "C'mon, Calliope, the butterflies are waiting for us!" She continued joyfully, pulling at my arm like a sugared up child at Disney World.

The humidity permeated my senses as soon as I walked through the door. The room had this stickiness that was making me feel like I had taken a shower in my own sweat. I surrendered to the muggy atmosphere with a frown on my face, pulling the dark curls I'd spent at least a good 30 minutes styling into a high ponytail. As much as I loathed the waste of effort, the cool breeze that brushed across my neck felt glorious.

Sunlight leaked into the room through the greenhouse windows that were placed along the ceiling; clusters of butterflies frolicked in and out of the beams of light. The rays caressed my skin, bringing me back to summer days spent on the beach in Miami.

The next thing I noticed about the room was the color. Green, lots of green as far as the eye can see. Whether it was in the form of bushy ferns, leaves on stubby trees, or stems of flowers, there was definitely a dominant theme as far as colors went. It was almost like the rainforest plopped down and decided to have a baby in Canada.

A girly giggle rang out amongst the steady drone of idle chitchat bouncing about the room; my eyes snapped over to the blonde striker who had an enormous grin on her face. _Oh my dimples. How the hell did I miss those? Just when you think she couldn't get any cuter- Umm, I mean, 'cute' in the non-romantic, teammate sense of the word. Yeah, that's it…_ My face twisted into what I'm sure was a very comical looking baffled expression. "Hmm?"

She nodded her head towards my shoulder; my eyes followed suit and I let out an earsplitting screech. There I was, face to face with a creepy critter. "Get it off! Get it _off_!"

I covered my face with my hands, stretching my neck out as far away from that shoulder as possible. My breathing rate was just short of hyperventilation, my heart nearly pounding its way out of me as if it was every man for himself out here. Fingers brushed lightly against my shoulder and my rapid breathing hitched at the contact.

Sensing that the imminent danger was gone, I slid my hands off my face and turned towards my roommate. A pretty blue butterfly was sitting on her extended index finger; a magical smile was spread out on Arizona's face. "Hey there, little guy!" she chirped in a singsong voice that people normally reserve exclusively for babies or small puppies. The insect's feelers bent a little in response, and then flew off to greet other visitors.

I looked at her to give her a look that said 'This is fight club, nobody breathes a word about it'. After all, I have a reputation to protect here. But it didn't matter, her gaze was already fixed on a flimsy branch that jutted out towards us, as if the small tree was reaching out to shake hands. A shriveled up cocoon was clinging onto the bark with a sturdy grip. My eyes came to a halt at a ghostly marvel perched on the shell; the butterfly twitched its antennas, almost as if it was speaking in Morse code.

Nearly transparent wings fluttered in an elegant dance, seeming so delicate that it looked like a thin veil constructed from a precise mixture of snowflakes and the brisk air from a winter afternoon. Splotches of light grey formed sporadic patterns, creating a design that only further accentuated the frail white background of the wings.

Its scrawny legs leaned forwards and the butterfly began to flap its wings fervently. The stunning creature hovered in the air for a split second before taking a flight that became more and more crooked. The wings started pumping at a furious rate, but the poor insect's efforts only propelled its body to the ground faster.

I pulled my gaze away from the sight. Butterflies may not be my thing, but there was something inexplicably heartbreaking about the scene that had just unfolded. Without my brain's consent, my eyes drifted to Arizona's face. Her bottom lip quivered as she tried to blink back the tears welling up in her eyes. Before I could find any words of comfort, the blonde bolted out of the room.

_Erm, what just happened? The butterfly thing was sad, but it's not something I'd cry like a bitch baby over… Maybe she was raised by tree-hugging hippies or something… Oh! Well, that would explain how she got stuck with the name 'Arizona'. Wait, maybe she's still upset from that call from this morning? Oh crap, where'd that little bugger run off to anyway?_

I took off and blazed through a couple of exhibits like a madwoman. As I ran I mumbled, "Arizona" intermittently, which got me more than a few strange looks my way. I retired to the bathroom to splash some water on my face and get together a game plan. The door swung open and I strolled in. _Is that sniffling? Well, either the sinks are feeling particularly down today or it's…_

I ducked my head a little bit to see pink Chucks sticking out under the third stall from the door_. Yup, it's her._ Taking a few steps towards the aforementioned green stall, I took a deep breath, my eyes shifting awkwardly. "You okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine- I'm okay- I'm good…" She stumbled over her words, ending with a self-deprecating laugh that sounded more like a gasp for air than anything.

My hands dropped to my hips and my eyebrows shot up. "Don't make me climb over this stall… I'll do it, but I'll be pissed because I don't know you that well," I said in a voice that left no room for bullshit.

Unlocking the stall, the blonde swung the door open with one hand, the other clutched onto a crinkled up piece of toilet paper. She dabbed her eyes one last time before jumping up to her feet. Arizona walked past me a couple of steps and turned to face me. Her eyes were pleading me to drop it and forget it happened; I shrugged my shoulder and declared, "Let's go back to the hotel."

My lips curved upwards into a reassuring smile as I texted our driver- umm Michel, I think? - to meet us here. Deciding to give her an out, I added, "I'm tired of looking at a bunch of creepy crawlers anyways."

* * *

><p>The car stumbled a little over a pothole in the road; the leather seats let out a low moan as my jacket chafed against its tan surface. My eyes fell down to the blonde locks resting on my shoulder. The poor girl hadn't said a word since whatever went down in the bathroom. She fell asleep pretty quickly after Michel pulled into the lot and ushered us into the town car. Robbins obviously was going through something so I wasn't going to be an ass and shove her off my shoulder or something… Her breath whispered lightly against my neck and I let out an audible gulp as a shudder trickled up my spine.<p>

_This doesn't mean anything- or change anything for that matter. I mean I'm not heartless. The girl just needs a shoulder to lean on right now; I'm just providing her with a literal one at the moment. It won't make us friends or… Gah, my brain needs an off button._

My sleeping teammate snuggled her face deeper into my neck, her lips grazed lightly against my pulse point in the process. Suddenly, my head went all fuzzy; if I were a cartoon, a big red heart would have thumped its way out of my chest.

A faint buzzing reverberated inside of the left pocket of my jeans, effectively snapping me out of my daze. I pulled out my cell phone and scanned at the screen to see who was calling me. _Ugh, great. The last person I want to talk to right now…_ I suppressed a groan and hit send.

"What is it, George?" I hissed in a low tone.

"Hey, Callie. It's lovely to hear your bright and sunshiny voice too. Just calling to check in with you before your practice…"

Whoops, with all that went on this morning, I totally forgot to fill George in. Sure we've bickered here and there on what was best for me, but the guy _was_ my manager and a damn good one. I know he's always got my back and he really cares about me. I whispered into the phone, "Webber cancelled practice today. He's making us all spend the day with our roommates for 'team bonding' and such."

"Why are we whispering?" George replied softly. _Aha, there's the George I like! The George that doesn't have a stick up his butt…_

"My roommate in the car with me. She's asleep right now," I murmured, deliberately leaving out the fact that she was using me as a human pillow.

"Hmm, I wonder why Webber cancelled practice for 'team chemistry' and such. Soccer is the one thing you all have in common, so wouldn't playing together be the best way to bond?"

"You may have a point there… Look, I'll call you later, George. Sorry I bitched you out before."

"It's fine, I'm used to the warm and fuzzy side of Callie Torres," George joked. "Talk to you later!"

I hung up the phone and gazed out the window. The car rolled past alleyway after alleyway. A soft smile crept onto my face and I pulled out my phone, sending out a mass text to the team. I glanced at Arizona's relaxed face; the corner of her lips had eased into a serene expression. _At least she looks at peace right now. Oh man, she's going to be mortified when she wakes up to see that she was cuddling with me in her sleep. The poor woman clearly has had enough stress for one day… _And with that thought, I shut my eyes and drooped my head, pretending to sleep myself. At least when she wakes up, she can pretend it never happened. _Good. Honestly, neither of us can handle any more drama right now. Especially over something that was nothing. Because it was nothing… Right?_ Squeezing my eyes together even tighter, I felt a bit torn on what I wanted the answer to be.


	7. Chapter 7

**(AZ POV)**

"Who we waitin' on again, Torres?" Meredith asked in the most indifferent tone she could muster up, leaning on the wall with a nonchalant look plastered on her face.

"Umm, only Montgomery and Altman," Callie said, furrowing her brow a little and tugging her backpack a bit closer to her body by the straps. "This is the kind of thing I'd expect from Addie, but Teddy… Well, Little Miss G.I. Jane has always made a point to be almost annoyingly on time, so you'd think she'd be here by now."

Impeccably, as if on cue, a familiar clacking sound began to ring from down the hallway. I looked up at Callie; her face twisted into a menacing glare with a matching scowl. I could practically hear her teeth grinding together as Addison sauntered into the room behind a very distressed Teddy. Turning back to her roommate, my friend hissed, "I _told_ you to hurry up! But noooo, our very own Ginger Elle Woods just _had_ to get all dolled up like we're going out on the town or something."

My eyes dropped as my teeth nearly drilled into my lower lip to hold back a fit of giggles. A hint of a chuckle came out and Addison shifted her dirty look between Teddy and me, sort of like she wasn't quite sure which one of us deserved to die at the hands of her manicured claws first.

My roommate looked Addison up and down very slowly. If it weren't for the intense glower remained frozen on her face, it'd probably look like she was checking out her best friend. "Addison Forbes Montgomery," Callie pronounced each syllable in an eerily calm voice.

"_Yes_, oh Honorable Captain-san?" Addison drawled in a playful tone, smirking at the Latina. For a second I thought she was going to go all out and bow down before Callie's knees.

"What the fuck are you wearing on your feet?" Callie growled, her dark eyes shooting daggers at Addison's visible toes.

"Silly Callie, you know your Prada as much as the next girl," the redhead teased, twirling around in her fiery-red stilettos.

"Damn it, Addie, I said _casual_. Shoes you can get around in! Look at what everybody else has on." Callie's voice rose in a gradual crescendo; her hands waved in a somewhat flustered manner towards feet clad in indoor cleats that had giant Nike swooshes displayed as the predominant feature.

"That's what I did," Addison replied; her eyebrows flexed into a genuinely confused expression.

My roommate rolled her gorgeous brown eyes and groaned in a jokingly exasperated voice, "Just go upstairs and find a pair of shoes that _doesn't_ lift you six inches off the floor."

The tall redhead grimaced and stormed off in a huff. Callie grinned, revving up a Latina accent that just oozed sex as she yelled after her, "Don't stomp your little last season Prada shoes at me, honey."

Addison didn't dignify that comment with a response. _Addison would never wear out of date shoes._ But we knew it and Addison knew it. Hell, even Callie knew it. Going by the radiant smile that eased its way onto her face, she was clearly just yanking her friend's chain anyway.

_God, that smile was the kind of smile that inspired poetry. And yet what's most intriguing about Callie is all the passion she's got built up inside her. I mean, holy crap, that fierce intensity moves - no - _drives_ her very being. It's really a thing of beauty in and of itself. But with that whirlwind of emotion came unpredictability… it's like I never know what I'm going to get when I'm with her. And while that both excites and terrifies me at the same time, I can't handle something like that right now. Hell, I can barely deal with the some of the stuff I can already see coming…_

"Well, well, well! Look what the cat dragged in."

At the sound of that catcall, I jolted upright, blinking away all the thoughts that had been racing through my mind.

"Damn Addie, those shoes are _fine_. You look hot when you're so close to the ground." Callie husked jokingly, waggling her eyebrows for the full effect.

"Yeah, yeah, suck it." Addison mumbled, waving off the jeers. "Where the hell are we going tonight, Cal?"

A grin crept onto the captain's face as she flourished her hands in a grandiose gesture. "Ladies and…ladies, please blindly follow me to an unspecified location!"

_Well, who could argue with such sound reasoning?_ And with that, we were off.

* * *

><p><strong>(Callie POV)<strong>

I peeked around the corner. _Hmmm… Nope, too small._

I led the group farther down the sidewalk and stretched my neck around the next bend. _Ehhh, no, there won't be enough light._

"Torres, where in God's name are we going? All we've done is walk down the block watching you looking 'round every building like you some crazy woman!" Bailey snapped.

I walked down to the next alleyway and stopped. "Just right," I murmured.

"What the does that even mean, 'Just right'? I didn't know we were following friggin' Goldilocks." Teddy, who was standing right next to me, grumbled.

"We're here!" I declared, trying but miserably failing to conceal a smug smirk as my teammates stared blankly for a few moments.

"Wait, wait, wait… Hold up, Cal. If we had to go to a some random sketchy place, you could've at least made it somewhere _indoors_!" Addie whined, pursing her lips in distaste.

Yang crossed her arms and scowled, chiming in, "Yeah, if you wanted to drink in some dirty place, couldn't we have just gone to some grungy bar? Why'd you make me bring my own-"

"Shhh!" I stopped her from spoiling too much. Even Cristina had no clue what was going on; her only job was to bring some supplies with her.

"Okay, so I know you're all feeling a little befuddled right now, but just bear with me for a second."

Mouths immediately snapped shut and I had 11 pairs of eyes on me. Before I took a few classes, all this attention would've turned me into a blubbering mess. I sucked in a big gulp of air to squelch the butterflies that were rumbling around in my stomach. _All right, I've got this._

"Okay, so Webber basically said our team chemistry sucks and that we all need to do some bonding or something like that. Then, it hit me. What are two things we all have in common?"

"Dazzling good looks and flawless cheek bones?" Little Grey called out.

"Hmm, well that's true but not exactly what I was going for…"

Lexie dropped her head with a pout on her face, unintentionally securing her well-known status as the 'baby' of the team.

Strangely enough, Little Grey took it pretty well when she heard about her nickname. She simply squinted her eyes as if she was deep in thought and remarked, "Oh well, it's a lot better than 'Baby Horse'*****." _Whoops, I have to actually tell them the answer instead of drifting off on Memory Lane…_

I pulled a ball out of my backpack and proclaimed dramatically, "We all love soccer… so I decided adding in some tequila would keep things interesting. We're going to have a good ol' match of street soccer with a twist. We'll have normal FIFA rules plus a few more. First off, don't kill anyone because I'm _so_ not cleaning it up. Next, if one team scores, each player on the other team has to down a shot. If you get nutmegged*****, take two shots. Oh, and if you miss when you're shooting, you gotta drink up too. Any questions?"

I glanced over the expressions on my teammates' faces; they stood stunned in a state of pleasant shock. "Let's make teams first," I said, my lips curling into a cocky smile. _Our team doesn't have any problems we can't drown in tequila._

* * *

><p>"Wait a second, this isn't fair! If everyone has to be the same team as her partner, that means our striker and first-string keeper are on the same team!" April shrieked at a decibel that wouldn't be appreciated by any breathing organism with ears.<p>

"Whoa there, Kepner, down girl!" Teddy said, holding her hands in front of her body palms out. "It'll take too long to remake the teams. Let's just leave them as they are."

The rest of the team grunted in assent. April, clearly outnumbered, stomped across the pavement. My eyes met Arizona's; she smirked at me and gave a small shrug. Walking over to our side of the pitch, Arizona slipped next to me and whispered, "Why'd you make Yang bring the tequila?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, she seems like the type of girl that's very attached to her booze, so I was wondering why you had her bring her stash of tequila?"

_Oh. Umm, yeah, she doesn't need to know the main reason. Maybe she'll buy it if I feed her a half-truth. _"Ha, what's the fun of being captain if you can't abuse the power a little," I joked with a wink, hoping my voice didn't give me away.

Arizona beamed and walked over to join the rest of the field players. _Phew! Hmm, well, we've got Robbins, Teddy, Addie, Grey, Kepner, and I. Not a bad bunch. Plus, they have Thompson between the pipes; Arizona will eat that girl alive._ I bounced on my toes in between the two cans of soda that marked the goal.

Cristina tapped the ball forwards to Lexie and the game was on. The young player swiftly weaved around April and Addie, who were attempting to double-team her. Trying to dodge her older sister, Little Grey cut the ball to the left, which was right where Teddy was waiting.

Sweeping the ball off Lexie's feet, Teddy took a touch to the side and passed it to Arizona, who had made a run along the edge of the makeshift field with Heron blazing behind. With a swift trap, the ball was like putty in her... well, not hands, but feet. Sydney leaned against Arizona's left side, essentially trapping her against the building.

With one arm on the wall for balance, her left foot pushed the ball behind her right with care. As the ball thwacked against the brick, the blonde rolled off of the defender, spinning around her and collecting the leather sphere on the other side. _Holy shit, she just literally did a wall pass__*****__…_

Yang barreled at Arizona and coiled into a defensive stance, low and ready to pounce. Stutter stepping next to the ball, Arizona dropped her shoulders with each move her feet made. But Cristina knew better than to dive in. Her eyes were trained on the ball instead of the deceptive shoes fluttering beside it.

The blonde tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and inhaled deeply. After tapping the ball slightly sideways, Arizona stomped down with her right foot and wound up with her left. Her arms stretched out at her sides as her left boot began its plunge towards the ball. Cristina bent her body forwards to try to block the shot.

It never came; the blonde's foot froze centimeters above the sphere. Whizzing by her off-balance defender, Arizona dribbled a couple of feet towards the goal. Julie Thompson's eyes looked like they were going to pop out of their sockets, an anxious frown dominating her features. _Yikes, that's never a promising look on a goalie…_

Driving the ball with inside of her foot for accuracy, the leather orb hovered an inch off the ground into the lower right corner of the goal. After performing an uncoordinated rendition of the Macarena, Arizona pointed at the other team and shouted the familiar refrain, "Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots! Shots!"

* * *

><p>"CALLLLLIEEE!" Cristina bellowed in what a wasted person thinks is the normal volume for talking. "Guess whaaat?"<p>

"What, Yang?"

"This _actually_ didn't suck! Your brain deserves a gold starrr."

_Wow, she liked my idea. That never happens! Huh, oh wait… that never happens. When Cristina starts spewing out her version of compliments, you know it's time to call it quits._

"Everybody, grab your roommates and head back!" I shouted.

Sydney latched onto Bailey's arm, giggling at the infinite wit she possessed when she was plastered. Miranda tried to form a death glare worthy of such an offense only to look like she was going a bit cross-eyed. The team stumbled out of the alley as a pack, traveling in groups of two. _Now where is-_

"Calllllliope?" Arizona slurred and wobbled towards me. _Damn, this girl is such a lightweight._ Glassy blue eyes connected with mine. I tilted my head to the side, wordlessly telling her to continue.

"Do you think dead people are cowards?"

"What?" I squeaked, caught completely off guard by the question.

"I mean, when the light goes out of their eyes, it-it's like…" Deep in thought, Arizona's eyes moved upwards as if she were literally looking inside her head to find the right words.

"Everything gets dimmer," she said a bit more quietly. "An' then you're left here _allll_ alone with your entire world crumpled up. But _then_ you've gotta pick up after the mess they've left behind while they're floatin' around up there in the sky playing cloud tennis. Do you think that makes them cowards?"

Her eyes flashed with hopelessness like a lost ship sending out flares when it finds itself in hot water. _Well, figurative hot water. _Her baby blues searched for an answer but I had no clue what to do or say. She was speaking in drunken riddles and my foggy brain couldn't quite put the pieces together.

"I think," my voice trailed off a little bit. "I think it just makes them dead."

The blonde threw her head back and a mirthless laugh rang out. She looked like she _would_ be sobbing if she and her tear ducts weren't so damn stubborn. Wrapping my arm around her shoulders, I kept her steady as we began our trudge back to the hotel.

We walked along the edge of the building, almost reaching the corner. Suddenly, Arizona stopped dead in her tracks; she wasn't exactly light on her feet before but she was 100% deadweight now. I spun around to face my roommate with my back to the wall. "Hey, why aren't you movi-"

In retrospect, what happened should have been a given. Those eyes that were more black than blue, that gaze directed just below my nose, that breath so shallow with a faint sweet aroma… I really should've seen it coming.

My back smashed into brick with an audible thud; a soft whimper escaped my mouth. Slightly clumsy lips attached themselves under my neck, leading a hot trail up my collarbone. A surprisingly strong hand pinned my wrists up above my head as the other grazed down my side, leaving behind a path of goosebumps. My already cloudy train of thought became almost entirely incoherent until it eventually skidded to a stop.

An electric sensation lingered on my skin as sloppy openmouthed kisses made their way up my neck. I let out a breathless gasp as her teeth nibbled at the flesh just underneath my ear. When I took in a deep breath of air through my nose, I caught a small whiff of tequila.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck! She's drunk and completely out of it. I can't take advantage, especially if she was a hot mess just a few moments before. Damn it, why do I always pick the shittiest times to have morals? Okay, I've gotta stop this… Well, once I retain feeling in my limbs…_

"Wait," I breathed out; she flinched slightly but continued her assault on my neck as if she hadn't heard anything.

Wiggling my arms out of her hold, I gently pulled her away. I stretched out my arms with hands clasped tight on her shoulders, insuring that she was exactly an arm's length away. "Look, you don't want this. Not now, but _especially_ not with me." I whispered as her eyes started to tear up.

"I-I'm sorry," Arizona stammered as her small frame started to tremble. Before I realized what I was doing, my arms were wrapped around her as distraught wails echoed in the alleyway.

When she buried her face deeper into the crook of my neck, I felt a light vibration against my skin. I struggled to catch the beginning but heard the end of what was probably meant to be some sort of soliloquy. "I j-just can't do it!"

Murmuring sweet nothings into her ears as I leaned against the brick, I wracked my brain to figure out what that 'it' could possibly be.

*** **Alex Morgan is the 'baby' of the US women's team right now. She was dubbed "Baby Horse" because she apparently looks like a baby horse when she runs.

*****_Nutmeg_: when you pass the soccer ball in between another player's legs. (**Go to around the 47****th**** second of this video:**[youtube].com/watch?v=TPXu3jURUS8)

*****_Wall pass_: when a player passes to another player and gets it back right away. (**Watch the 11****th**** second to the 16****th**** second of this video:**[youtube].com/watch?v=jzTlQLgCgPM)


	8. Chapter 8

**(Callie POV)**

***2 days after "bonding" night***

_Luck. Some people believe it can be a big factor in soccer, that it can truly make or break a team. And well, when you think about it, the premise makes a lot of sense. I mean, two sides will fight tooth and nail for 90 minutes and the lesser team can still come out victorious. So after the game, we all sit back on the living room couch, waving a hand dismissively as we make comments like, "Hmph, they just got __**lucky**__ this time."_

_ But then there are those teams… their players are, well, nothing special; they've basically got second-rate skills and can only string together a couple of passes at a time. And somehow, these teams that are so-so at best end up __**just**__ scraping by with one of those devastating last-minute goals that wins them games weekend after weekend._

_With cases like that, can we really call it luck? What's so ironic is that the only thing that's reliable about luck is that it's unreliable. Honestly, I can't and won't believe that the outcomes in a sport that's so important to me are dictated by the mere fate of chance. If you attribute a win to good fortune, you would be essentially disregarding all of the work we do on and off the field. It would be giving credit to outside forces that are beyond anyone's power… and as an athlete I've got to have faith in something more than that._

_I personally like to think of soccer as a game of opportunities and risks. The most successful clubs don't need to be particularly great at keeping possession or have players with fancy footwork. It's pretty simple, really: the teams that win games are the ones that can capitalize on the opportunities given to them. The best competitors take calculated risks that give them a shot to come out on top. As a soccer player, you have to have the ability to recognize when that one chance is right in front of you..._

My eyes remained locked with blue ones that were still demanding answers. I sucked in a deep gulp of air; a bell rang in the back of my head to remind me that it really was now or never…

* * *

><p><strong>*Morning after "bonding" night<strong>*

_**BUZZ. BUZZ. BUZZZZ.**_

_Ugh, what the? Who's fucking idea was it to set my phone's vibrate settings to freaking earthquake mode? Oh wait…_

The droning of my phone was relentless, obviously hell-bent on getting my attention. I could feel my heartbeat pounding in my head as I shifted my neck so I could sneak a peek at the clock. _Shit, 1:24 PM._

My stomach churned a little when I slowly rolled over to grab the source of the buzzing. Yeahhh, it was probably a little stupid of me to let my blubbering drunk roommate convince me that raiding the hotel mini-bar was a good idea…I flipped the cellphone open without looking at the Caller ID; I had a _pretty_ good guess on who would call me around this time.

"Callie, you didn't call me this morning, which is kinda weird because I'm almost positive that I _specifically_ said-"

"Ughh, shhhhhh," I moaned into the phone, cutting George off at the beginning of the lecture. I really wasn't trying to be rude, it's just his rants will just go on and on and on and… well, you get the point.

"What?" His voice squeaked a little in agitation.

"Head hurts! Inside voice." I grunted in curt sentences that would make any cavewoman proud.

"Sorry," he said more quietly this time. "I just got worried when I didn't get a call this morning. Call me back when the hangover from hell is over!"

_Wait a second… I never told him abou- _"Callie, I've known you forever. I think I'd know hungover Callie by now." George continued with a chuckle, correctly interpreting my silence.

"Ha ha, very funny. You're a riot, George. Talk to you later."

I shut the phone and glanced at Arizona's bed. She was making these groaning noises, but not the good kind, as she tossed and turned in her sleep. _I guess whatever demons that haunt her in real life are present in her dreams as well._

I staggered my way into the bathroom. When I finally reached my destination, I fished around the cabinets for a few things and fiddled around a bit with the sink.

I groggily emerged with supplies at hand; I set a glass of water and some aspirin on Arizona's nightstand gingerly. Her face had relaxed but a sheen of sweat still lingered there. My thoughts snapped back to her incoherent rambling and the subsequently confusing kisses last night. Not quite ready to confront her yet, I slipped on some sandals and left the hotel room.

* * *

><p><strong>*2 days after "bonding" night<strong>*

_I can do this. All I have to do is follow her lead and avoid the bejeezus outta her just like she's been doing. Clearly it was a big drunk nothing… well, I mean, for her anyway. How could I be so stupid to think anything otherwise? Ugh._ I rolled my neck to release some of the tension that had gradually built up in the past day; my loose ponytail brushed lightly against the nape of my neck. Reluctantly, I trudged into the locker room.

_Great, just fucking perfect._ Of course the first thing my eyes were drawn to when I stepped through the threshold is the blonde I've been trying to push out of my thoughts for the past day. We haven't spoken since the 2015 Waterworks Show Extraordinaire she'd put on after the "team bonding" shifted her attention to the door when it creaked open; she looked at me briefly before averting her gaze as if I had eye cooties or something.

I held back a scoff at the relatively juvenile move. It's a bit strange how even though we change so much as we grow up, some of our defense mechanisms never really do. Honestly, it'd be somewhat amusing if it weren't so damn pathetic.

With a light groan, I walked over to my locker. Sneaking a quick peek at Arizona, I saw her squished in the corner of the room. She seemed to be having a fairly animated conversation with Teddy in hushed tones.

"Look away."

I jumped at the unexpected words that were murmured gently but firmly into my ear.

"Wha-" I mumbled, still stuck a dazed state of mind.

"Stop staring at her," Addison growled.

I furrowed my brow but continued my scrutiny of the blonde enigma.

"I can't," I countered weakly.

The redhead huffed and physically turned my head away from _that_ corner. "Look, I don't know what happened after the street soccer match… _Especially_ since whenever I ask you about it, you get this weird dopey look on your face and you say-"

"Addie, please stay out of it. It's _really_ none of your business-"

"Yeah, that! You always feed me the same stupid line! But anyways, whatever happened with you and Blondie, she seems to be kind of over it and… well, sweetie, I think you need to try to do the same."

"It-it's just..." I squeezed my eyes tight, entirely aggravated by my inability to articulate my thoughts. "Okay, Addie. You're right; it's really not a big deal." I sighed heavily in defeat.

Finally peering at Addison for the first time since I'd arrived, I realized she was already suited up for the game. She even had her signature pink pre-wrap on her head, completing her look perfectly. _Oh crap, I have to get moving! Addison isn't exactly the poster girl for punctuality, so if I'm running behind her… Fuck._

After stripping out of my street clothes in record time, I hastily pulled the jersey over my head. A weird tickling sensation trickled up my spine when I got that eerie feeling you get when you _know_ somebody's watching you. Glancing around, I realized Arizona and I were the only ones left in the room. _Jeez, God has a twisted sense of humor today. All right, where are the freaking cameras? I feel like I'm on some goddamn reality show or something._

We stood very still, neither of us sure what the protocol was for this slightly complicated situation. Just when the awkward silence was ready to swallow us both whole, she offered, "Hey."

_Hey…? What the fuck does that mean? She goes a day without talking to me and all she has to say for herself is 'hey'? Is that code for something else? Like "Sorry I was an moron and ignored you"? Maybe she's just engaging in pleasantries, hoping I won't bring anything up? Hmm, Callie, or maybe it just means 'hey'. Yeah, I'll just go with that one._

"Umm, hi there," I stuttered awkwardly. _Jesus Christ…_ _Hi there? Seriously, where the hell is cool, calm, and collected Callie when I need her?_

"Soooo," she drawled the word out a bit as she collected her thoughts. "Are you excited for your first World Cup game today?"

"Yeah, I think it's gonna be a good game." I said with a grin that made me look slightly more at ease than I actually felt.

"Awesome," she chirped as she started to walk away.

"Wait," I bellowed in a voice that was louder and overall a lot more forceful than I had intended it to be. The striker halted immediately, almost as if she had been conditioned to follow commands or something.

"Sorry, it's just I wanted to- Umm…" I trailed off as my mind struggled to string together words.

Arizona raised an eyebrow as if I _really_ needed an indication to know that she was waiting on what I had to say. Inhaling deeply, I continued, "I wanted to talk about the other night."

"Oh, yes!" She replied just a bit too cheerfully. "I was meaning to ask you what happened that night… Everything after Cristina pantsed April is kind of a blur."

My nose crinkled a little as I searched Arizona's face carefully. Dimples were prominently on display; her smile was as dazzling as always but it was just tight enough along the corners of her mouth to seem a little forced. Her eyes had this hollow look to them, almost as if she had mastered the ability to drain them of any emotion at a moment's notice.

_Yeah, okay, she's so full of shit. Arizona may have been plastered but she knows what happened that night just as well as I do._

"Look, Robbi- I mean, Arizona. It's just you and me here. You don't have to pretend you don't remember what went on in that alley. I mean-"

"Calliope, please, j-just…"

"It's fine, I didn't tell anyone about it. I-I just wanted to say that I know we aren't friends. And, well, we aren't exactly close, but if you need someone to talk to… I mean, before the… well, before you-know-what happened, you sounded really sad. And I wanted to let you know that I'm here if you want to talk to somebody someti-"

"Oh, now you're done being a complete bitch to me again? Don't go acting like you actually give a damn about me or my problems." My jaw dropped as her eyes suddenly went ablaze with a smoldering ire.

She raged on in a hardened voice, "What, you think I'm _broken_ so now you're going to play nice? I'm not some psychodrama and I certainly won't be some little project for you to fix so you can fulfill some twisted need you have to be a 'good person'. I mean, seriously, Callie, why can't you just walk away and leave me alone? What the hell do you want from me?"

_My eyes remained locked with blue ones that were still demanding answers. I sucked in a deep gulp of air; a bell rang in the back of my head to remind me that it really was now or never…_

"I just-just…"

Before I could fully process what was happening, I had Arizona pinned up against the lockers. _What's with us and walls? _I leaned in, hungrily capturing her pink lips with my own. Her eyes fluttered shut and a light moan escaped her mouth. Spurred on by the soft sound, my hands tangled in blonde curls. Arizona's arms that had been wrapped around my hips were inching closer and closer to my underwear-clad ass. I could nearly feel the passion pulsing through my veins, leaving a scorching path behind.

And sure, it was something physical; I mean really, look at us. We're two girls who are _obviously_ easy on the eyes. But the thing was, it was more than just that. Every time we'd come together, there was something almost chemical about it; like the more unstable we'd become, the more explosive things would get. And damn it, I think 'explosive' is the only word that could begin to come close to describing this feeling, this energy.

_I may not be a big believer in luck but I sure as hell think timing can be everything. There are times you can and should take that leap of faith… but sometimes more importantly, you've also got to know when you have to keep your feet planted right where they are. _

_And that's where people make most of their mistakes. We can't just sit back in shotgun and let fate drive the car for a while. Having no control over a situation scares us all shitless._

_So we jump the gun. We try to speed everything up because we need to see that immediate progress. Our focus is set on that end product we want __**so**__ badly. And we push for it with everything we've got… so much that we end up losing what we were fighting so hard to hold onto._

The body trapped underneath mine started to squirm. I'd find it kind of cute or even endearing in any other circumstance. But then, just as abruptly as it all began, Arizona pushed me off of her with a startling amount of force.

I tried to ask any of the many questions that were flowing through my head but my mouth refused to comply, remaining locked in a fishlike gape instead.

"I can't- we can't… Umm, I gotta go," she stammered, her eyes looking in any direction besides mine.

"Wait! Arizona! I-" I started but my words only hastened her already speedy retreat towards the door.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" I growled to myself over and over again as I slumped against the lockers, banging my head lightly against the solid surface in time with each curse.

_Because the thing about soccer and, well, life is that they both aren't known to be particularly forgiving. One small mistake in soccer and you're going home without a trophy. With life, though… Life isn't nearly as simple because at the end of the day, those are the choices that make you who are. And so when you consciously decide you want to risk it all, when you choose to go all in… well, there's always the possibility that everything is going to blow up in your face. And what sucks about life is there's no one there to blow a whistle to end the game and save you from whatever mess you've gotten yourself into._


	9. Chapter 9

**(AZ POV)**

The cool evening air nipped at my skin and filled my lungs with the kind of sting that made me feel alive. My face relaxed into a soft, content smile as I dug my cleats into the lush green grass. The soccer field was the one place where all my troubles could just melt away. When the whistle blew and the game started, life just seemed to stop.

I stood a good 20 yards above the halfway line with my hands on my hips, glancing at our goal. Callie had an intense stare fixed on the German midfielder who was blazing past Sydney on the right side of the pitch. My stomach felt a little uneasy, as if it was twisting itself into a bundle of unsettling knots.

I shifted my gaze to the crowd in a vain attempt to think about anything but the confusing reality that was Callie and my 'relationship' or whatever the hell it was. Scanning the fans in the bleachers, my eyes focused on one face I'd know anywhere. _ What on earth is he doing here?_

Instead of racing ahead in a panicked frenzy, my mind remained frozen in place for a moment. Because what were you supposed to do when the mess you wanted to escape, to avoid confronting at all costs, had gone and followed you into your sanctuary? I blinked rapidly while my thoughts began to reel backwards as if my mind were a rewinding cassette tape.

"_My 90 year old grandmother can juggle a ball on the run faster than you!" my soccer trainer, Heinz, bellowed in a thick German accent. The other soccer players were guiding their soccer balls through the air before rocketing them into the back of the net._

_My wide sixth-grader eyes gawked at Timmy and the other high school players that were ahead of me in line. My toes started to fidget a little inside my boots. I felt like a tricycle wobbling around in a Harley Davidson parking lot. The other kids coaxed the balls effortlessly through the air; my jaw nearly dropped as I peered at their practiced precision._

_In the back of the line I quietly tried to mirror their perfected technique. My ball fluttered in the air then crashed like a fledgling colliding with the ground after yet another attempt at flight. I put my head down, wanting nothing more than to crawl back into my dad's car and leave the training session with some of my dignity intact. He would be so disappointed to hear that I had failed, that I really wasn't good enough._

_Self-doubt was an unwelcome houseguest that lingered in the mind, wreaking havoc as it made itself comfortable amongst a person's innermost thoughts. And then, what started out as just a whisper of skepticism suddenly turned into this maelstrom of questions pelted at my psyche, blurring any lines of certainty I'd ever had. "What am I even doing here? Why should I even bother?" the voice in the back of my head asked with a defeated sigh._

My head snapped up as cheers reverberated throughout the stadium. My eyes darted to the left side of the field; Addison was charging down the field with the ball skidding in front of her. I began a run towards the goal as I quickly assessed my surroundings. _Only one defender on my back now._

Addie's eyes met mine and it was like our minds connected. I quickly spun off of my defender as she launched the ball into the air.

_Oh, it's on now!_ The ball bounced in front of me and I masterfully directed the ball through the air and wound up for the shot with a wide grin on my face…

_Hit or miss, I still have a long way to go till I can match up to Heinz's grandmother. Huh, maybe that's what it's all about… Maybe some things are worth a little bit of elbow grease... Maybe some people are worth the trouble too. Even if they happen to be sort of complicated and as stubborn as hell… and a tiny bit forward but kinda-_

* * *

><p><strong>(Callie's POV)<strong>

The ball sprung up off the ground in front of Arizona, who stretched out her left leg to start juggling it with her thighs. The white uniform shorts clung a bit to her toned legs that were shimmering with sweat a little. _Stupid perfect legs. Stupid shorts. Ugh, she just __**has**__ to look all hot to rub salt in my wounded ego. _I snorted at my cranky inner monologue, knowing very well that it was simply the product of my battered pride.

Shaking my petty thoughts away, I found myself focusing on the blonde striker yet again. The only problem was the German player next to her was kind of blocking my view. _Hey, not cool! Can't she just move a little to the left or something? I just can't catch a break, can I- Wait! What the fuck does she think she's doing?_

The red clad defender who was a good stride behind Arizona shifted her hips sideways and extended her right leg to curl around two of Arizona's unsuspecting ones. The blonde was so engrossed in the ball floating ahead of her to see what was coming...

A sharp yelp resonated throughout the stadium, sending a cold chill up my spine. The small striker was sprawled out around the outside arc of the 18, her face contorting in pain as she gripped her quad like it was her lifeline.

A teammate getting hurt, well, it's never really something you can get used to as a player. Because it doesn't matter what you think about her off the field or if you two even see eye to eye on certain matters, she is a part of your team. It's one of your own lying there on the ground. A sight like this never fails to put a fire in your eyes and a hunger for vengeance simmering deep in the pit of your stomach.

And even though this would never be a familiar feeling, even though I was sure I'd seen this sort of thing happen game after game after game, somehow it was different this time...

This seemingly boundless raw fury pounded through my veins. My usually steady goalkeeper hands began to shake as I fought for a sense of control that was dwindling at a rapid rate. A snarl escaped my lips as I stalked up the field towards the spineless bitch that started it all, that was the cause of the pained expression on my Arizona's face.

_Erm, I mean, she's not actually mine… Ugh, stupid-_ I dismissed what would be a time-consuming combination of flustered backtracking and smacking myself in the forehead. I couldn't just sit around and dwell on a trivial slip of the tongue. _Well, a mental slip of the tongue…_

The ref sauntered up to the wrongdoer in an almost theatrical fashion. Lifting his hand in a deliberately slow manner, he held the small yellow paper over his head like he thought he had the fate of the world in the clutches of his bony little fingers.

"WHAT?" I screeched, putting my hands down on my hips, set for combat mode.

"_Sir_, she freaking took her down from behind. That's a red card!" I continued, elongating the 'sir' to properly convey my growing aggravation.

The defender crossed her arms, her lips curling into a slight smirk. She let out a chuckle, breaking the already thin resolve I'd tried to build up. A haze of ire clouded my head causing my mouth to feel the need to unleash some of that anger.

"¿Qué te pasa?¡ Esto no tiene ninguna gracia. El hecho de que _ella_ sea talentosa y tú no seas no te da derecho a hacerlo! Vete a carajo, puta."*****

A hand took a gentle but firm grip on my shoulder. No matter how good the intentions might've been, the gesture only managed to spur me on further, if that were even possible. I turned swiftly on my heels to glower at whichever bonehead thought it was a good idea to try to interrupt my rant. My reflection surfaced in a pair of concerned green eyes, showing me the wild expression I held in my own.

"Callie," Addison warned. "Don't. She's not worth it. We don't need two players going off the field from this play."

I let out a low growl in protest, not wanting to admit that the redhead had a point. Getting a red card for verbally thrashing the little fucker would only make things worse.

"Cal, sweetie… Just look at her. She wouldn't want this."

My eyes scanned the arena and came to a sudden halt; the overpowering anger that had set fire to my every nerve evaporated immediately. Arizona was lying down on a stretcher that was being carefully placed on a go-kart. The blonde had her eyes squeezed shut; her nails were still digging into her quad. A grimace remained etched on her face as she wrestled to resist the urge to let out a cry of pain. I shuddered a little, the sight making me feel sick to my stomach.

"It'll be okay. She's tough," Addison whispered reassuringly.

"Yeah," I husked, my voice thick with emotion.

Slowly retreating to my goal line, I rubbed my gloves against my temples in a fight to regain a sense of composure. Lexie stepped onto the field as Arizona's substitute, lining up behind the ball for a free kick just outside of the box. A subsequent blowing of the whistle urged the game forward once again…

**XXX**

"Thank you and good luck against France next week!"

After giving the interviewer a curt nod, I used all my willpower to keep my legs moving at what would be considered an ordinary walking pace towards the tunnel. I broke out into a sprint as soon as my feet hit the uneven concrete.

I whirled around corners, unable to see the countless puzzled expressions on the faces of those whom I'd passed. I didn't really care if I looked crazy because honestly, the way my stomach felt like it was closing in on itself made me feel a little crazy too.

I just had to see if she was okay. That's all. I'd tell her we could go back to being friends, roommates, whatever. I didn't want to be the one to cause her any more pain than she was already in. I'd settle for anything. Whatever made Arizona happy would be good enough for me.

_Wait a second… 'Good enough'? I'm Callie freaking Torres! Those two words have __**never**__ been a part of my vocabulary. Well, not together at least._

But it was different now. With Arizona, it was always different. My overwhelming need to strive for the best, to go ahead and take what I wanted was irrelevant at the moment. Because all of that would be rendered meaningless with a mere frown on those pouty pink lips.

"Wait, _what_?"

My eyes widened in recognition of a familiar voice as I skidded to a stop.

"Wel-"

"Okay, okay wait. Hold on!" Arizona cut in quickly before the person could get a word in, clearly disregarding the fact that she _did_, in fact, just ask a question.

Peeking around the corner, I could only see Arizona's back. With a slight limp, she inched a little closer to her companion, waving her arms with wild gestures as she spoke in a lower tone that I couldn't quite hear. Looking around warily, Arizona shooed the wide shouldered man into the nearby closet and hobbled in after him.

The door slammed shut and I heard a faint pitter-patter of shoes coming from down the hall Arizona was just in. Dropping any earlier pretense of indifference, I stretched my neck out even further to pinpoint the source of the noise. A mysterious figure slipped into the shadows and out of sight. I blinked a couple of times, trying to put together the pieces that only seemed to get more and more jumbled up. Because I mean really, what the fuck just happened?

* * *

><p><strong>*What's wrong with you? This isn't funny at all. Just because she's talented and you aren't doesn't mean you go and can hurt her! Go to hell, bitch.<strong>


	10. Chapter 10

_**(Callie POV)**_

My index finger drummed a restless rhythm against the arm of my chair, almost like it was struggling in its attempts to match the pace of my racing mind. My other hand was pressed up hard against my forehead as if the added pressure would give some sort of insight on whatever was going on.

My mind was like a skipping record; no matter how hard I tried, whatever scene I walked in on in the hallway kept playing over and over in my head. The image of her back as she staggered further and further out of sight was burned into my brain. I squeezed my eyes together even tighter; it was like I could almost see her pouty pink lips purse as she paused to choose her words carefully. God, that's how she did everything. _Carefully_. Because one slip of the tongue would be the hand that opened her Pandora's box. But what she couldn't see was that her grasp on the box was just a bit too tight. Its boundaries had gotten blurred in her head, which began to become incapable of recognizing what she could and couldn't hide. She'd slipped inside, trapped by the very thing she had been trying to protect.

But it wasn't my fight to fight. That much she'd made perfectly clear.

'_What, you think I'm broken so now you're going to play nice? I'm not some psychodrama and I certainly won't be some little project for you to fix so you can fulfill some twisted need you have to be a 'good person'. __I mean, seriously, Callie, why can't you just walk away and leave me alone? What the hell do you want from me?'_

The harsh words kept echoing in my head mercilessly. I mean she had a point there. _I_ didn't even know what I wanted from her… All I knew was that she was wrong about me. It wasn't about patting myself on the back for being a 'good person'; she was never some conquest for me to take on. Whatever this was wasn't about me at all.

_I mean I'm broken too; Erica left me in freaking shambles… Why the hell would I be looking for a challenge right now? Why go looking to fix someone else when I can hardly hold myself together?_

And that was the part I couldn't make sense of… Why did I even care? It wasn't like I wanted to. I mean, please. As if I'd actually _want_ to feel anything after Erica. I tried to be numb, to tell myself it'd be easier to give up not only on myself but on her as well. But, of course, those damn piercing blue eyes wouldn't let me do that. Whenever I wanted to throw the towel in, there'd be this mysterious glint in them. For a matter of seconds, the usual overcast look to them would clear up and I could see something raw, something pure in those beautiful orbs. And in those mere seconds it was like I could feel _everything_ again. All of those dormant feelings I thought had long since disappeared would emerge with a vengeance, scorching a path through my being and leaving me breathless.

But, really, who was I kidding? I was the last thing Arizona Robbins needed. Like her, I was barely strong enough to keep my _own_ head above water right now. If I tried to tread for the two of us, we'd both surely drown. And yes, I guess it's pretty romantic to imagine two broken people coming together and making each other whole again… But most of the time it doesn't really work that way, does it? Well, I mean, besides in the storybooks, it's never that easy. There's no fairy godmother there to wipe your past away with the flick of a wand. Your knight in shining whatever can't swoop in and save you from yourself. And yes, there was a slim chance that we could fix each other and be that 'rock' in each other's lives. But there was an even greater chance of us destroying one another beyond repair… The only problem was that the mere act sharing air with the blonde in question made any semblance of reason fly out the window, leaving me with the urge to be almost recklessly fearless when it came to all things Arizona…

"Yer my girl, ya know that?" I was shaken out of my musings by the sound of the gravelly voice on the other side of the door.

_It can't be… Can it?_

Arizona's noncommittal grunt in response may not have answered her company's question but it sure answered mine.

"An' I love you so much," the man continued, his voice thick with emotion. "More than anything in the _whoooole_ wide world."

_Oh, wow. Greaaat. She has a fucking boyfriend. But-But she didn't kiss like she had a boyfriend…_

"Mmhmmm," she hummed; jeez, even the tone of her voice had a poker face to it.

"'rizona Robbins!" I flinched at the sudden change in the gruff voice. "Young lady, did you just roll your eyes at me?"

_Okay, maybe not. Well, hopefully that's not her boyfriend because that could possibly be the creepiest pet name ever…_

"Just… Just please go back to your room. You can't stay with me anyway; it's against team rules." Arizona pleaded quietly.

I heard retreating footsteps and then nothing. I scrambled to look like I wasn't just eavesdropping on yet another one of Arizona's conversations. I finally settled on flipping to a random page of a nearby book when the door swung open.

Arizona limped into the room; puffy blue eyes gazed at me with a slightly vacant expression. She took a small breath in, as if she was afraid she'd explode if she had to hold anything else in. Her moderately muddied uniform was a bit wrinkled and a few stray hairs were peaking out from the pre-wrap she'd applied earlier. The beginning of what would be a nasty bruise whispered on her right thigh; her flawless pale white skin was becoming obscured with deepening shades of purple. I dropped the book on the floor and took a few slow steps towards the disheveled blonde; a wide and hopefully persuasive grin spread out on my face. "Let me take care of you," I whispered, caressing the beautiful face that was merely inches away from my own.

* * *

><p><em><em>**(AZ POV)**

"N-now, Callie? Please?" I whimpered, my nails digging half-moons into smooth golden skin.

Ruby red lips curled into a deliciously mischievous smile. There was mirth gleaming in her eyes, as if she were having a private joke with herself.

"Calliope," I managed to murmur through clenched teeth; anything remotely resembling pride had been shoved to the back of my mind a while ago.

"Please, just-please? I'm practically dripping here." I groaned, gesturing downwards desperately.

The Latina's hand glided across my skin, leaving a trail of goose bumps behind. My breath hitched as warm fingertips grazed over wetness.

"Wuss," Callie muttered, flashing me a playful smile as she lifted the bag of ice off my quad, which had turned an angry pink color in protest of the glacial temperatures it had been subjected to.

A pout automatically formed on my lips and I let go of Callie's hand, which I had been squeezing to distract myself from the frigid ice. I crossed my arms as I narrowed my eyes at the gorgeous Latina. Yeah, _very_ intimidating, I'm sure. Callie wrinkled her nose a little at the loss of contact but quickly replaced it with a goofy grin. I arched my eyebrow, wordlessly requesting an explanation for the random display of amusement; the brunette let out a high-pitched giggle that betrayed her typical 'badass' front.

"What's so funny, Calliope?"

"You," she answered simply; my nose crinkled a little as she poked it teasingly.

"Come out with me tomorrow," I blurted out; the words passed my lips before the thought had a chance to fully form in my head.

"I-Wait, what?" Callie's eyebrows furrowed into an adorably puzzled expression. "Umm Arizona… I'm already out. My family knows about me and everything. I mean my grandmother still mails me the occasional newspaper clipping for dating websites but-"

"What? Oh no, no no! I meant… Well, I was just wondering if you'd like to go to dinner with me..?" The words sputtered out of my mouth uncontrollably, making the idea of buying myself a muzzle increasingly tempting.

Callie's eyes lit up for a moment but their dazzling spark quickly faded into this blank, unreadable look. Her shoulders dropped and my heart followed suit. Taking a deep breath, the Latina spoke softly. "Arizona, I want to say yes. Damn it, you have no idea how much I want to say yes. But as cliché as it sounds, I'm not really in a good place right now… And I don't think you are either. So as much as I'd love to go to dinner with you, I don't think the timing is quite right…"

"Callie," I began but the brunette stopped me with a sharp shake of the head; her dark brown eyes were starting to well up.

"I swear to God, Arizona, I'm barely hanging on right now. And if I let you in… You're the one person who could break me, destroy me beyond recognition. Hell, I'm damaged goods as it is. And, as much as you don't want to admit it, you are too. And-And I can't… No, I _won't_ be yet another person who has hurt yo-"

"Calliope," I murmured, placing my hand on hers as tears streamed down her cheeks. "I'm not asking you to marry me or anything. It's just a date, just one night of nervous glances and good food and me rambling about God-knows-what… Ermmm kind of like right now…"

The Latina grasped my hand, which had been fiddling with her fingers uneasily. The warm brown color of her eyes always seemed to have a calming effect on me. I tried to focus on them as I carried on, "Look, I'm not stupid. I know we're both, uh, dealing with things…"

A smirk crept onto my face as Callie snorted at my understatement. "Okay, _fine_. Your life's a shit show and things with me are, well, _complicated_… But that doesn't mean we don't deserve any better. You said you don't want to be broken and I get that. But I don't think we can truly be broken until we stop believing we deserve more, until we start to doubt whether we ought to seek happiness. I guess only question is: Are you too afraid to take a chance on the possibility of more?"

Callie's mouth opened slowly before closing again as she mulled over what I'd just said. The only sound I could hear was my heart thumping along to the tempo of my shaking hands. "Okay," she mumbled quietly, so quietly that I didn't know if she had meant to speak at all.

"Huh?" I asked dumbly, my unsteady voice unable to utter more than a syllable.

"You can pick me up at eight tomorrow," Callie said, kissing me on the cheek and walking into the bathroom.

_Oh my god! She said yes! She freaking said yes! YES! What an awesome word! Wait, oh crap… Where the hell am I gonna take her..?_

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hi readers, I'm not the biggest fan of lengthy author's notes but I just wanted to apologize for how long it took for me to write this chapter. It took me a **_**really**_** long time to figure out where I wanted to go after the last chapter and I was distracted by a lot of schoolwork for the past couple of weeks. I love writing this fic and I'm so grateful to have such awesome readers and reviewers :) Thanks for your patience and have a great day!**


	11. Chapter 11

**(Callie POV)**

**From Arizona:** _Nope, no hints! Just throw on something nice, Calliope :) See you soon!_

…What the fuck did that even mean? I mean she downright refused to tell me where the hell we were going. And technically I _could_ wear an outfit that would be nice for Chuck E. Cheese's but that choice of attire wouldn't be the same as dressing nice to go to a goddamn opera house. Plus, it's not like I could sneak a peek across the room to make sure I don't over-or-underdress.

"_Hmmm I think I'm gonna get ready at Teddy's tonight… You know, so there can be an element of surprise and mystique and all that fun stuff! Ooooh and it'll be so much more romantic this way! Super!" Arizona chirped in the locker room this morning, animatedly nodding her head in agreement with herself._

An uneasy frown etched deeper and deeper into my face as the word 'nice' rang in my head persistently, taunting me with its cruel ambiguity.

_Why'd she feel the need to say that anyway? Gosh, it's not like I make a habit of dressing like a slob! And even if I did, how would she know? She's only known me for a couple of weeks, give or take. What, did she think I was gonna show up in a ratty old practice uniform or something, which, by the way, I could totally rock if I wanted to…_

But that wasn't really the point I guess. The point was, well… Damn, it never gets easier, does it? Firsts, that is. First kisses, first dates… There was just something about them that made my brain shut down in some sort of panic, leaving my nerves scrambling into overdrive to try to pick up the slack. And to make matters worse, with each person came a brand new set of 'firsts'. All of the sudden I'd realize that I have a whole new audience, another reason for those pesky 'what ifs' to gnaw at my psyche like a ravenous colony of termites.

And yet that novelty never failed to bring about an inexplicable sense of vulnerability in me. There was this ominous feeling I always seemed to get during 'beginnings', this paralyzing fear of screwing something up before it had the chance to get off the ground. Even the slightest hint at the possibility of destroying something with an almost endless amount of potential made my stomach feel like it was closing in on itself.

To anyone else, it may look kind of stupid- getting so worked up about this stuff, I mean… Because why waste time and energy dwelling on something that might not even happen? Logically, I knew if worse come to worst I could and would simply move on just like I always did. Logically, I knew it was not as dire, not as 'life-or-death,' as it felt at the moment. But as I stood in a wardrobe war-zone, completely surrounded by heaps of heels; a disarray of dresses; a pandemonium of pants… Well, it was like every neuron in my brain with any semblance of logic had the sense to surgically remove itself from my head to get away from the crazy. Unfortunately, I couldn't escape my _own_ mind; I wasn't afforded that luxury.

My eyes narrowed into a withering glare aimed at the unsuspecting plastic device that I had clenched in my now very white fist. With one final look of disgust, I flung my cellphone across the hotel room, letting out an uncharacteristically dark laugh when the phone narrowly missed a cushion-y pile of clothes and, instead, made contact with the carpeted floor with a thump. On its second bounce the screen went blank as the battery popped out of its cartridge. My lips twisted into a crooked grin that gradually faded into a bitter grimace as my earlier anxiety had reemerged full force and replaced the irrational rush of pride I'd gotten from my split second of 'glory'… Which had admittedly lost a lot of its 'oomph' factor once my jittery brain had settled down long enough to realize that my BlackBerry was but a mere casualty in my misguided efforts to 'kill the messenger'. My feet reluctantly trudged their way over to the other side of the room; I scooped the phone up with ease. My hands fumbled to reassemble it, clicking everything into place.

The device was revived and began to sputter with life. An idea flashed before my eyes, much like the glitzy opening sequence my phone went through as it began the process of turning on. Before I knew what I was doing, my fingers were already flying across the keypad, reciting a succession of numbers that had been committed to memory a long time ago.

After three rings the phone made a slight crackling sound as fairly melodramatic yet very well known sigh broke through the static. "Callie, you _know_ better than to call during prime primping hours! You're so lucky I just finished my second coating a few minutes ago or I wouldn't have picked u-"

"Yeah, yeah, gussies before hussies and all that jazz. Please, Addie, you know I wouldn't have called unless I, you know, really needed to and all… P-Please?" I interrupted quickly before Addison's rant could reach the point of no return; the tone of my voice became more and more frantic with each word spoken.

"Sorry," she said more softly after a brief pause. "Okay then, what's got your panties in a bunch on this fine evening?"

"It's Arizona," I replied bluntly.

"Oookay there, Cal. That is what we like to call _too_ _much_ _information_!" the redhead quipped, chuckling a little.

"No, no!" I nearly shouted, my already frazzled nerves and I weren't exactly in the mood for anything close to a joke, no matter how much I'd set myself up for it. "You know how I told you about Arizona asking me out?"

"Yes, Callie, I managed to remember what you told me a few hours ago. Plus, you know, she's getting ready here right now. I'd have to be terribly unobservant not to see her…"

"EXACTLY!" I bellowed. _Sheesh, where the fuck did my volume control go?_ I cleared my throat and decided to try again without so many decibels. "Uhh sorry, I just really need your help."

"Umm I'm not really following here…" Addie's voice trailed off, perhaps getting a little lost in the jumbled thoughts she was trying to make sense of.

"Arizona won't tell me where we're going," I grumbled; my frustration was now at an almost palpable state. "She refuses to say where we're freaking going and I don't know what the fuck I should wear! And-And I…"

"And you called me to see if _I_ would budge?" Addison finished my sentence with ease; I could almost hear her raise one of her eyebrows. The whole mind-reading thing might've irked me if it weren't so damn convenient in desperate times like this.

"Please, Addie! J-Just a clue! I don't want to throw on some baggy pair of sweatpants if she's gonna show up all dolled up in a ball gown like she walked straight outta some Disney princess movie!"

"Okay, okay fine. I'll check really quick," she huffed.

"Thank-you-thank-you- thank-you thank-you-thank-you!" I murmured repeatedly, so fast that the different syllables started to sound eerily similar.

"Yeah, yeah. You owe me, woman." My best friend mumbled before drawing in a gust of air that would make even Kirby proud. "Oh my god!" Addison breathed in a reverent tone.

"Ad? Wha-What-" I stuttered.

"Oh my gosh, you gotta see her dress; it's fucking gorgeous! And her _shoes_! Her _shoes_, Callie!"

"Okay, so there's a dress. Good, I can work with that-"

"God, Jimmy Choo is a fucking genius, no, an inspiration! I've always said a good pair of heels is like a work of art, Cal, and _this_. This is more than just _art_; it's something bigger than itself, you know? Like a symbol-"

"Addison!" I barked and strangely enough, she actually stopped mid-rant. I softened my voice and continued, "As, um, _fascinating_ as shoes are and all they represent, could you possibly talk to me about color schemes as far as her clothes go? I don't want us to clash or, God forbid, match or…"

Instead of the sulky sigh I had expected as a response, a sharp squeak escaped Addison's mouth and an odd rustling sound followed.

"Callie Torres!" an unexpected voice drawled in a quiet tone that did nothing to weaken the disapproval that was practically _seeping_ out.

_Shit._

"I-I…"

"Just save it," the voice cut in. "Are you doing what I _think_ you're doing? Actually, never mind, I _know_ you. Of course that's what you're doing."

"Wait, wait! I'm sorry, Teddy. _Please_ don't tell her! I-I'll do anything! You name it and I'll-"

"Take care of my friend and I'll call it even, Cal," she said with a rare softness to her voice before hanging up.

I blankly stared at my Blackberry for a few moments then shook my head lightly as if it were an Etch-A-Sketch that needed to be reset. I shifted my eyes to the down to the alarm clock that rested on the nightstand in between our beds.

_7:30? Shit, I've only got a half an hour!_

The flutter of my nerves gave me a quick jolt to the system, sending my feet in a hurry across the room and around mountains of clothing. As my hands shakily dug their way into the daunting depths of my closet, somehow, I knew one thing for sure. _This _was going to be one hell of a beginning…


End file.
